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Friday, August 27, 2010

The Worst Thing Ever

The worst thing ever in the world happened this morning*.

I was on my way out and as I opened the door, Rue scurried in. 'Adorable,' I naïvely thought. Then I saw that he had a dead bird in his mouth. "That little scamp," I said, blind to imminent disaster. I grabbed a paper towel to take it outside. Then. Then...

I realized the bird was still alive.

Now that may not sound like the worst thing ever in the world. But that, my friends, was only the beginning.

Here's the scene: Rue is calmly standing guard, the bird is quietly gasping what appear to be its last breaths and I am eying the situation rather hesitantly. You see, I was faced with a rather unpleasant moral quandry.

Do I:
a) let Rue toy with the poor thing until it dies a slow, horrible death in my effing kitchen?
b) dispose of a nearly dead bird and let it die a slow, horrible death far, far away from me and my kitchen?
or...gulp...
c) kill it, giving it a quick painless death right in. my. freaking. hands???

Then, in one terrible second, the scene changed rather drastically.

Turns out this miserably, dying bird could still. fucking. fly.

Here is the revised scene: Rue is calmy pitter-pattering aftre the bird who is careening around my kitchen and living room and I.... have locked myself into the pantry. I took a moment to compose myself and be a big, strong man instead of a small, hysterical girl**.

I heard a thump.

I poked my head out. The bird was motionless, on the ground. I emerged. Then. Then.

I look at Rue and say, "you could make my life a lot easier if you just killed the poor thing."
So he bit it. And the damn bird made a sound that made me want to cry, throw up and laugh*** at the same time. It was fucking awful. The worst sound in the world. Imagine a tiny bird saying, "mmreeplech" like it was the last mmreeplech it was ever going to utter.

After doing a little disgusted dance, I grabbed the paper towels, took the bird outside where it quickly died, thankfully without my help. Then I started washing my hands. That didn't stop for quite some time. In fact, just thinking about it makes me want to wash my hands again.

And so, to conclude, I would like to dedicate this post to The Bird, whose name is now Mmreeplech****. May he rest in peace and not, say, haunt me for the rest of my earthly freaking life.

RIP Mmreeplech

*I'm definitely not exaggerating.
**It went very well.
***I laugh when I'm uncomfortable, ok? Don't judge me.
**** Like you could come up with a better name in those circumstances.